


Afternoon Drinks

by hathycol



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Adorable FitzSimmons, Darcy Lewis's iPod, F/M, Gen, Missing Scene, ian boothby deserves more love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-05
Updated: 2014-04-05
Packaged: 2018-01-18 06:30:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1418416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hathycol/pseuds/hathycol
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fitz and Simmons really don't know why Coulson picked them for this mission. It's not like they really know Ian Boothby...</p><p>(Set post Thor: The Dark World and The Well)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Afternoon Drinks

**Author's Note:**

> First fic within the MCU; hopefully the first of if not 'many' then at least 'some'. Many thanks to not_vacillating for the beta - she is awesome.

The atmosphere in the laboratory on the Bus had grown tense. Coulson had asked to speak to Fitz and Simmons regarding a delicate mission that only they, with their backgrounds, had the ability to help with. With trepidation they had both listened. The actual nature of the mission had come as something of a surprise.

“You want us... to go to the pub.”

“No, I want you to gather sensitive information using your unique skills and connections.”

“In the pub. With _drinks_ ,” said Fitz mutinously.

Coulson pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yes, the task will take place in the pub.” Silence briefly fell.

After clearing up the mess in Norway, May had turned the plane around and they'd headed back to London. “We still need to finish our work there,” Coulson had said mildly when Skye had objected. “Witnesses are still coming forward.”

It turned out that by 'witnesses' he had meant 'Ian Boothby'. Which, in turn, was leading to one of the strangest requests Coulson had ever had to make. Both Fitz and Simmons, however, were looking disgruntled.

“We only knew Ian through a visit to Cambridge,” Simmons pointed out. “We barely socialised then. I don't think he even has my number.”

“I definitely don't have his number,” added Fitz. “Ian wasn't even, you know, that bright. I don't see how he could have been involved, except by accident.”

“In my experience,” said Coulson, “'by accident' defines how Dr Foster finds her interns. We know that Foster was at the scene; we know that Boothby works with Foster; we know that Boothby was there. Unfortunately, SHIELD have a delicate relationship with Foster so we can't just question Boothby. You two know him and we would really, really like to know more about what happened.”

“But we don't know him!” protested Fitz, moving awkwardly on his chair and exchanging glances with Simmons. Coulson sighed.

“I didn't want to bring this up, but SHIELD knows about what happened in the Eagle and Child on that fresher's week pub crawl.” There was a sharp intake of breath from both Fitz and Simmons. Coulson continued relentlessly. “To think, you weren't even students there, let alone freshmen. Really, you should be ashamed.”

“He's lying,” said Fitz to Simmons, who had gone white. “It was a small group and they wouldn't have talked.”

Coulson leaned forward. “We have photographs, too.”

“We'll do it,” both Fitz and Simmons chorused together.

–

Darcy raised an eyebrow as Ian re-read the text message out loud. _**Hi Ian, long time no see! Jemma and I are in the area, do you want to get a drink? Best, Leo F.**_

“So... two genius scientists from your freshman year at college just so happen to be in the area?” She curled both her hands around her fresh cup of coffee and watched over the top of her glasses as Ian tried to puzzle it out.

“Yeah, it's a bit weird to be honest. They were doing their post-grad work when I was there. We haven't really spoken since a pub crawl in Fresher's Week in Cambridge which went... weird.” Ian swallowed and shook his head for a moment, as though he was trying to dislodge a painful memory. Darcy took drink of her coffee and filed that under 'interesting information for the future.' “Anyway. Last I heard they were off working for some secret organisation. No one saw them again.”

“Secret organisation? Oh, for the love of the baby Thor.” She slammed her coffee cup down on the kitchen surface, the small cupboards rattling with the energy involved. “It's SHIELD! They let us save the whole universe and now they want to mine us for information?”

Erik's head popped out of his bedroom. “Did you say SHIELD? Here? Now?”

“Ian here is going for a drink with two no-doubt sneaky undercover agents and - oh, god, Erik, put on some trousers, what is my actual life?”

Erik sheepishly withdrew back in to the bedroom. Ian coughed awkwardly. “Should I refuse?”

Erik came back out of the bedroom, this time fully-dressed. “You should definitely think about refusing it, Ian. Once you get involved with SHIELD-”

“Ian, you absolutely have to go,” Darcy said suddenly. “We need to know why they're sticking their noses in now, after refusing to help with Jane's research and then leaving us alone through the last couple of weeks. Plus, I want my damned iPod back. I'm coming too.”

–

“I hope we can claim expenses on these drinks,” mumbled Fitz rebelliously as he wound his way back from the bar to a quiet back table. On a weekday afternoon, the only other patrons were a table of quiet businessmen and a man determined to lose a lot of money at the gambling machine. None of them seemed interested in Fitz or Simmons. “London is a lot more expensive than I remembered.”

“I just want this to be over,” replied Simmons, taking her gin and tonic. “I have no idea what to say to him. 'Hi Ian, spoken to any aliens recently?'”

_Simmons, just act natural. Ask him about science. Find out where he's staying. And you'll need to fill in Form IC-44b to claim expenses, we talked about this. Target approaching building – ah._

Coulson, sat inside an unobtrusive van outside the pub, saw a familiar face approaching the building along with Ian and winced involuntarily.

“Ah?” hissed Fitz. “What's 'ah'?”

_Someone else is coming in with Boothby. She... might be interesting. Try not to talk about SHIELD too much._

Fitz opened his mouth to ask what on earth Coulson meant before Simmons trod heavily on his foot whilst waving at the direction of the door, which had swung open to reveal Ian and a small dark-haired woman wearing glasses and a heavy-looking coat. “Fitz, wave,” Simmons hissed, before speaking louder. “Hi Ian! How lovely to see you!”

“Er... hi, Jemma. Leo.” Ian waved back weakly before coughing and pointing vaguely at the dark-haired woman. “This is Darcy. She's my...”

“Boss,” interjected the strange woman, scowling fiercely as she struggled out of her coat. “I am the boss of the interns. A science boss.”

Ian looked hurt for a moment, and then plastered on a large smile. “In that case then, boss, mine's a pint!”

“No, Ian, I'd like to meet your... friends. You go to the bar. Ooooh, see if they have peanuts.”

As Ian turned towards the bar, Darcy threw herself down heavily on the chair opposite Fitz and Simmons and smiled like a shark. “So. We've discussed what I do, what is that you two do?”

 _Please be aware that this woman knows about the existence of SHIELD._ Coulson's voice sounded somewhat resigned.

“We're scientists,” said Simmons with a weak smile. “Government work. Boring, really.”

“Really?” said Darcy, a sweet tone completely at odds with her smile. “The British government?”

“Um, no. International?”

“Well now.” She leaned back in her chair as Ian returned from the bar, a packet of peanuts balancing neatly on top of Darcy's wineglass. “Ian, these two work in international government science. Isn't that just fascinating? It's really nice to see that people are coming back to London after all that strange stuff that happened.” She gestured at the admittedly empty pub.

“It's 3pm on a Tuesday,” Fitz pointed out.

“Nevertheless.”

An awkward silence fell across the table, broken only by the sound of pound coins falling into the gambling machine.

–

In the unobtrusive van parked outside, Phil Coulson briefly took a moment to bury his face in his hands. “Well, at least Skye isn't here,” he muttered, careful to have the comms on mute for a moment. “She and Darcy would have killed each other. Or teamed up. Not sure which is worse, actually...”

–

“So Ian, Darcy,” tried Fitz, looking nervous. “What, er, projects are you working on?”

“Physics,” Darcy said shortly. “Very exciting time in the field. As you would know. Of course.”

“Well, of course,” said Simmons with a fixed smile, before taking a gulp of her drink. “And, er... who is it you work with? These days?”

“Dr Jane Foster, she's absolutely brilli-” Ian began with some enthusiasm, before being cut off by a deathly glare from Darcy. Instead, he sighed and took a sip of his drink.

Simmons tried again. “Did you, er...”

Darcy cut Simmons off by noisily opening her bag of peanuts. “Look. Jemma. If that _is_ your real name.”

“That is her real name,” Fitz interjected. “Ian can prove that.”

“Whatever,” she said, waving a hand before crunching down a peanut. “The point is, probably-Jemma-”

“-no, that really is my name-”

“-that you can tell SHIELD we looked after London just fine by ourselves, thank you very much. We don't need to sniffing about, we're not going to tell you anything, and I want my damned iPod back!”

_Tell her you have no idea what she's talking about._

“I... have no idea what you're talking about?” Fitz attempted to smile as Darcy snorted.

_Convincingly, Fitz._

“I... definitely have no idea what you're talking about?”

“Oh, well done Fitz,” mumbled Simmons. “You've really convinced the crazy lady that we don't work for a secret organisation.”

“I am not a crazy lady!” shouted Darcy. Silence fell across the already quiet pub as a barman dropped a glass. “I'm definitely not crazy,” she said, a touch quieter. “And I really do want my iPod back, I haven't been able to replace it yet.”

“Look,” said Ian, leaning across the table. “I'm new at this. Two weeks ago I signed up for an internship with a visiting American academic...”

“Not that much funding,” mumbled Darcy mutinously, “we barely had enough to get out of Tromso and we have to stay in Jane's mom's holiday apartment.” She crunched another peanut.

“My point is,” said Ian with a sigh, “that I think we should go.”

“No, wait!” said Fitz. “I...” He glanced at Simmons for a moment. “Look, you've rumbled us. We're not here because we want to reminisce about the Eagle and Child.” He fiddled awkwardly with his drink. “I don't think any of us want to reminisce about that night. But you know who we are, even though I'm not going to confirm one way or the other.”

 _Fitz, where are you going with this? Fitz?_ Outside, in the van, Coulson gently hit his head against the console.

“Yes, Fitz, where are you going with this?” Simmons muttered, looking panicked.

“We just... want to know what it was like. We can't get involved. Simmons and I really are scientists, you know. We've been clearing up at Greenwich, and we have a fairly good idea what went on from other sources, but we just want to know what it was like. What the aliens were like.” Fitz shrugged. “Sorry for the subterfuge. We'll go if you don't want to talk.”

“You really are protected from anything more than that, you know,” added Simmons, her face softening. “Bravo, Fitz.”

There was a deathly silence for a moment. Inside the van, even though he hadn't realised, Coulson was holding his breath. Then Darcy put down her peanuts with an oddly loud crunch of plastic against the wooden table. “Why do I always give in to a science sob stories?” She sighed. “Come on then, hit me with your questions and we'll see what I can tell you.”

“Darcy, are you sure?” said Ian. “You know that Erik said...”

“Pfft, Erik says lots of things.” She turned to Fitz and Simmons. “I still want my iPod back though. Seriously, it's not cool anymore.”

–

Half an hour later and the businessman had been chased out of the pub by peals of laughter from the back corner. “... no, really, you should have seen him, Ian lifted a whole car!”

“Oh, with the changing gravimetric... oh, that's a wonderful idea Ian!” Simmons looked very impressed. Coulson, back in the van, was trying to record as much as possible whilst wincing at the loud pitch of the laughter coming through his earpiece.

“Yep, that's how I like to train up my interns. Brilliant AND loyal enough to save my life. Whoever's listening in on this conversation should take notes.” Fitz choked on his drink. “Oh shush, Fitz, I know perfectly well there's some boring guy sat outside in a grey van.”

 _She's right,_ said Coulson over the comm, sounding impressed. _I should take notes._

“Take it he's telling you I'm right?” Darcy said, arching an eyebrow. “I bet he won't have told you how I once tased the God of Thunder.”

“You tased Thor?” gasped Simmons, her eyes wide. “That's not in the reports!”

“Yup,” said Darcy, looking smug. “Went down like a tree. Good thing to mention as much as possible, I want that nugget back in reports so they appreciate my _total_ badassery. Oh, hey, is that my phone ringing?” She scrabbled in an oversized and brightly coloured bag before victoriously pulling out a small smartphone. “Jane?”

“Darcy?” The scientist's voice was tinny through the small phone. “Darcy, we have fourteen very confusing messages left by Erik, what the hell is going on?”

“Oh, hey, Jane,” said Darcy into the phone. “Dr Foster,” she mouthed to Fitz and Simmons. “You know. Just out. With two scientists who won't confirm if they're with SHIELD.”

“Darcy!” Jane sounded aghast. “We talked about this! Jackbooted thugs!”

“No, no, it's ok. They're cool, I'm impressing them with my skills. How is _Donald?_ ” she said with some emphasis on the name. “Thought you guys were out seeing the sights of the fair city you helped rescue, etc?”

“Donald?” This time Jane sounded confused. “Why would I be with Donald, I'm with Th-”

“Line breaking up now havetogo!” Darcy garbled into the phone very quickly, and slammed it down on the table. “That was Jane,” she said with a large smile. “Jane. Who was with Donald. Ian, we should think about going now.”

 _Donald is the name they used for Thor_ , Coulson supplied through the earpieces to Fitz and Simmons. _Sounds like he's back on planet. Try and find out more_.

“Well, it was lovely to get to know you, Darcy, and to see you again, Ian,” started Simmons. “Has, er, Donald ever been to London before?”

“Yes. Many times,” said Ian firmly. Darcy looked startled before her face softening slightly.

“Ian has it exactly right,” she added. “Keep in touch though, yeah?”

 _Let them go and keep them on side,_ said Coulson through the comms to Fitz and Simmons, before closing the connection. “We definitely need to keep them on side...”

–

“Nice wrangling of the special services there, Ian,” said Darcy as they trudged up the stairs to the apartment. “Really, I'm impressed.”

“Well, Jane and Thor are so happy, I didn't want them to abduct him or whatever,” said Ian earnestly.

“Okay, because Thor would totally let those two kidnap him with their cunning wiles,” said Darcy, rolling her eyes. She stood on her toes for a minute to kiss Ian on the cheek anyway, before scrabbling for her keys and opening the door.

“Darcy!” boomed Thor, before they had even got through the door. “You have spoken with SHIELD?”

“Don't worry, big guy,” she said, pulling her boots off and dumping them next to Mjolnir. “Ian totally had your back. No secret service abduction for you!”

Thor looked confused. “SHIELD are noble, from my experience. The Son of Coul died trying to protect the Earth.”

“Agent iPod Thief is dead?” Darcy looked stunned for a moment, before moving further into the apartment. “Whoa.”

“Darcy, you've got some post here,” called out Ian from the hallway. “Looks hand-delivered. Thor, did this just arrive?”

Thor's brow crinkled. “I have seen no messengers, nor any couriers.”

“Sounds like a yes,” decided Darcy. “Come on, gimme. It might not be a bill.” Ian handed her the small parcel. Darcy ripped it open and gasped as a brightly-coloured object fell into her hands. “Dude! My iPod! It's charged and everything!”

“Is there a note?” Ian asked, peering over Darcy's shoulder.

“Yeah, it says... 'Loyalty should be repaid.' What the hell is that meant to mean?”

–

“Knew I was right to keep hold of that iPod,” said Coulson, driving the van containing him, Fitz and Simmons back to the airfield. “Always good to repay a favour.”

“But sir,” said Fitz, looking confused. “Does Thor... know? The last time he saw you...”

“I was dying, yes,” said Coulson calmly, and if no one noticed the slight tremour in his hands than that was fine with him. “If Darcy suspects anything, I think we can safely saw that she'll keep quiet. Fiercely loyal. I always appreciate loyalty.”

“Plus,” he added, sounded satisfied, “there's a tracking device in there. What's the point of being a jackbooted thug if you can't act the part sometimes?”


End file.
